


Don't Talk Dirty to Me

by Miadotfi



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Double Entendre, Food, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Innuendo, M/M, Smut, puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 02:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13603548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miadotfi/pseuds/Miadotfi
Summary: “So what’s wrong, Nan? Why did you call?”“Oh, I was just explaining it to Harry. Come in, darlings, let me show you my glory hole.”Louis’ entire life flashes before his eyes. He certainly didn’t hear right. His Grandmother didn’t just say “glory hole”. He steals a glance at Harry to see if he heard it too. Harry just keeps smiling.AKA The Glory Hole Fic





	Don't Talk Dirty to Me

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea for this story from Answer Me This! podcast (episode 353) a while ago. When [undersummerstars](http://undersummerstars.tumblr.com) talked me into joining this challenge, I knew I had to use this prompt. I initially thought writing less than 2500 words would be easy. It wasn't. My heart is still bleeding that I couldn't fit all the puns and innuendos into this story.
> 
> The biggest thanks go to my beta and britpicker [brokenheartsgoupthere](http://brokenheartsgoupthere.tumblr.com), without you this would be a mess. Thank you for your help and advice! Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Big thanks go to the mods for organising this challenge! And to [undersummerstars](http://undersummerstars.tumblr.com) for telling me about this challenge in the first place.
> 
> The title is taken from the song Don't Talk Dirty to Me by Jermaine Stewart.

It’s three in the afternoon on a fine, sunny Wednesday. Louis’ shift at the café ended just a minute ago. He has so many plans for today. He checks his phone, and sees five missed calls and three voicemails from his Grandmother. He used to panic, imagining his fragile Nan calling him for help after an accident, but the fact is, she doesn’t know how to use a mobile phone. Louis sighs, there go his exciting plans.

Make no mistake, Louis loves his Grandma; she is kind and caring, she remembers when the Queen was just Princess Elizabeth, and she can bake delicious desserts. But she’s bad with technology. And it’s not because of her old age - one of the regular customers at the café, an eighty-year-old lady called Mary, owns a smartphone, can make a phone call and send a text message, and Louis once saw her FaceTiming her great-granddaughter. She also asks for the café’s wifi hotspot password every day. You can’t have everything.

Louis finishes the second voicemail - six minutes of running water and the clinking of dishes, don’t ask Louis how his Nan managed that - just as he arrives at her place. She’s at the front door, talking to a young man. A very handsome, and tall, young man, wearing a black coat, skinny jeans, and brown suede Chelsea boots. His curly hair is tied up in a bun. Lovely.

“Hello, Nan!” Louis greets, flashing her the sweetest smile in his repertoire and kissing her cheeks. “And hello, who are you?” he asks the stranger, trying to be really casual.  
“Oh, hello, I’m Harry,” the man’s voice is low and Louis really likes that, “I’m a baker, I bring Margaret her bread every other day.” 

He talks slowly. Knowing Harry takes care of his Nan shouldn’t do things to Louis. It does.

“Louis, darling, what a coincidence. I tried to call you,” Margaret’s voice interrupts Louis’ internal swooning.  
“Yes, I know, I got your voicemails.” Louis looks back to her.  
“Voicemails? I certainly didn’t leave you any voicemails!” She sounds almost offended.  
“You did, Nan,” Louis sighs, “I’m going to show you how to use your phone again.”  
“I still don’t understand why I need a mobile phone,” Margaret retorts, “the landline was working just fine.”

They’ve had this conversation before. They have the exact same conversation every time. Louis lets it go. Back to the point.

“So what’s wrong, Nan? Why did you call?”  
“Oh, I was just explaining it to Harry. Come in, darlings, let me show you my glory hole.”

Louis’ entire life flashes before his eyes. He certainly didn’t hear right. His Grandmother didn’t just say “glory hole”. He steals a glance at Harry to see if he heard it too. Harry just keeps smiling.

The three of them stop in front of the door to the airing cupboard. Inside, there is the water heater and some old, unused or broken household appliances.  
“There is the glory hole, go inside. I think my boiler is broken.” Margaret explains.

And Louis did hear right the first time. Unfortunately. She just said it again. Louis steps inside the tiny room, looking at the boiler. He has no idea how boilers work in the first place, he’s a barista.

“Uhm, Nan, I think we should call someone who can understand this thing. Unless Harry here can mend a broken boiler?”  
“No, I’m just a baker,” Harry replies. He’s biting his lip and fuck Louis’ life, really. How is it possible that such a gorgeous man exists?  
“Oh, well, I have the Yellow Pages somewhere, let me find it,” says Margaret, “go to the sitting room, darlings.”

Louis thinks on the way to the living room how to explain to his Nan that it is not appropriate to use the words “glory hole” these days. Just in case the repairman is knowledgeable in areas other than water heaters as well.

Margaret comes to the sitting room with a thick book in her dainty hands and puts it on the coffee table.  
“Here, you should find a plumber in there. Get the number off together, I’m going to prepare some tea.” 

Louis wouldn’t mind getting off with Harry. His inappropriate train of thought is interrupted by Margaret, again.  
“Oh, you have a cobweb in your hair,” she says, brushing it away, “my glory hole is a dirty place! I’ll have to give it a good clean before inviting a stranger inside.”

Louis is glad he’s sitting. He feels like he might fall off the sofa, anyway. 

With Margaret out of sight, Harry starts giggling and then fully laughing, soon clutching his belly with tears streaking his reddened cheeks.  
“Sorry, ‘m sorry, I can’t… Too much,” he gasps.

Louis chuckles and tries his best to not find Harry’s laughing fit endearing. He focuses on the phone book instead. He doesn’t have the heart (and guts if he’s honest) to tell his Nan the Yellow Pages edition from 1998 is useless. So he opens it on a random page and grabs his phone. 

When Margaret comes back with the afternoon tea, everything has been sorted out.  
“Nan, the plumber’s coming tomorrow at ten.”  
“That’s splendid, darling. Thank you very much.”

Louis pours himself a cup of tea, takes a deep breath and gathers all his courage.  
“Nan, it’s not appropriate to call the cupboard a glory hole.”

“And why not? It’s been used forever.”  
“Well…” How is Louis going to explain it delicately enough? “These days it has a different meaning. Totally different meaning. Please, don’t say it ever again.” Louis is scarred for life as it is.  
“What meaning? What does it mean?” she insists.  
“It’s… uhm… there’s this…” Louis stutters, fighting off the heart attack that’s creeping upon him.  
“It’s a term related to a sexual activity,” Harry helps. And winks at Louis. The heart attack seems inevitable.  
“Youth these days… It’s been a glory hole my whole life,” Margaret grumbles into her cup, “oh, I forgot, I have some Spotted Dick to go with the tea.”

Louis chokes. This is going to be his last day.

Harry leans over Louis to grab some sugar cubes. (Three cubes. Three!!! Who is this person? Louis might reconsider his attraction.)  
“I love some dick in my hole,” Harry mutters under his breath, when he’s closest to Louis’ ear. His raspy low voice goes straight to Louis’ cock. Holy hell. While sitting on his Nan’s sofa it isn’t a good time to get hard.

Luckily, Margaret is back soon with some delicious looking dessert.  
“Harry, darling, could you bring me some buns on Friday?” she asks.  
“Of course, Margaret. It will be a pleasure.”  
“Oh, you are a sweet talker, aren’t you!” she says, turning to Louis, “You should see Harry’s buns, he has the best buns!”  
“I wouldn’t mind showing you my buns,” Harry mumbles, and how many times can a person choke on tea before they finally die? 

Louis spends the rest of the visit looking down at his cup. He’s too stressed out from his Nan’s unintended puns and Harry’s very intended innuendos to participate in the conversation. He can’t wait to leave and try to forget about this afternoon once he’s out in the fresh air.

Three cups of tea later, both Louis and Harry say their goodbyes. Harry promises to bring some buns to Margaret and winks at Louis. 

Louis knows he should go home. If he hurries he can catch the second half of the football match on TV. Instead, he keeps standing on a pavement in front of his Nan’s house.

“It was nice meeting you, Harry,” he says.  
“You, too. Louis.” Harry doesn’t go anywhere either. Louis takes an opportunity when he sees one.  
“That thing you said before… Was that an offer?” He looks at Harry from beneath his eyelashes - no man ever has been able to resist that look.  
“More of an invitation,” answers Harry.

“Where do you live, again?” Louis grins. He can postpone his plans to fuck a fit guy.  
“Really close.” Harry grabs Louis’ hand and drags him across the street, into a house, up the stairs and stops in a bedroom.

It is a very tiny room, with just a bed, a wardrobe and an armchair with loads of clothes piled on it. Louis doesn’t have the time to look around more because Harry steps in front of him. Louis has to look up to see Harry’s face and he would be lying if he said the slight height difference isn’t doing things to his cock.

“How do you want this?” Louis asks, fingers running up and down Harry’s forearms lightly.  
“As I said, I love a cock up my ass. Please and thank you,” Harry answers. Louis steps closer and whispers into Harry’s ear.  
“Ah, aren’t you sweet and polite. Asking me so nicely to fuck you.”  
“Yeah… Fast and hard.” Louis’ breath hitches, Harry’s not so sweet then.  
“Hmmm,” Louis purrs. “I’m going to fuck you good. So good. Gonna scream my name.” Louis gently touches Harry’s crotch. Harry’s hard already, good.  
“Oh yes,” Harry moans, “now kiss me.”

So Louis kisses Harry and it gets dirty in five seconds flat. They get rid of their clothes quickly, not wasting any time, and Louis shoves a naked Harry onto the bed. Harry’s cock is laying on his stomach, big and red and waiting between the laurel tattoos. Louis should be embarrassed about how badly he’s gagging to fuck a stranger he met at his Grandma’s house when it’s still light outside, but then Harry scrambles to the bedside table for a bottle of lube and a condom and Louis’ brain short circuits.

“Come here,” Harry commands, and Louis obeys.

After some heated snogging, grinding and Harry groping Louis’ ass, Louis slides one lubed finger inside Harry.  
“More,” Harry begs almost instantly, “love it when it hurts… love the burn… the stretch,” he sighs.

Soon Harry is fucking himself on Louis’ fingers, precome glistening on his belly and fuck, Harry said he loves pain, okay. Louis can’t wait any longer. He rolls a condom on his cock, squeezes the base hard, and after a few steadying breaths he pushes into Harry slowly.

Louis lets Harry get used to the stretch, to the feeling of someone filling him up. When Harry gets restless, Louis pulls almost all the way out, leaving only the very tip of his cock inside Harry and then slams into him hard. Harry moans and fists the bedsheets. Louis starts with a very quick pace, no time to lose, and chasing his pleasure. 

“Harder… Fuck, harder, oh yeah, harder!” Harry begs for more, and doesn’t seem to be satisfied no matter how fast Louis fucks him.

Louis hitches Harry’s legs on his shoulders, bending him and thrusting into Harry even deeper. That seems to work for Harry, a look of utter ecstasy appearing on his face. Louis can feel the burn in his thighs and sweat dripping from his body but it’s so worth it. Harry just mewls and whines, Louis punches lovely oh’s out of him with every thrust and those might be the hottest sounds Louis has ever heard.

Louis changes his position again and Harry screams, finally screams, Louis’ name. He’s found the right spot then. Encouraged, he keeps giving it to Harry hard and fast and deep, even though his muscles are about to give out. Harry starts playing with his nipples and with one last tug Harry comes with Louis’ name on his lips, back arching high above the mattress.

Louis doesn’t have the time to pull out and come onto Harry’s stomach as he would like. He comes buried deep in Harry’s arse instead, feeling Harry clenching around him. His vision goes black and he can hear himself moaning while riding the waves of pleasure. Finally, he stops moving, catching his breath and then pulls out and rolls next to Harry.

Louis soon gets cold but doesn’t dare cuddle his one night stand or engage in pillowtalk. He sits on the bed, gets rid of the used condom and looks at the mess on his stomach.

“Do you have tissues somewhere?” Louis asks with a hoarse voice.  
“You can take a shower. Bathroom’s across the hall.” Harry stretches languidly. What a sight he is.  
“No… tissues are fine.”  
“I have some baby wipes in the bedside table… Are you running from me?” Harry looks at Louis and pouts.  
“I’m not,” Louis lies. Harry doesn’t look like he believes him.  
“Then stay. And have a shower with me.”

Louis could be convinced, when the unexpected happens.

“Harry? Is that you?” asks an unfamiliar voice from the hall. A tell-tale sound of walking sticks confirms that the person on the other side of the door is an old lady.  
“Yes, it’s me, Grams!” Harry answers, “I’ll be down in a moment!”  
“What the fuck, Harry?” Louis whisper-screams, “you let me fuck you with your Nan in the house? Are you mad?”  
“She’s almost deaf.”  
“That makes me so much calmer,” Louis snickers. Harry hands him the baby wipes in lieu of an answer.

Louis cleans Harry first and then makes quick work of wiping himself down. He bends down to pick up his discarded clothes.  
“Fuck, that arse,” Harry moans from behind Louis.  
“Like what you see?” Louis looks over his shoulder and chokes, Harry’s got his fist around his cock and is pumping slowly, despite coming mere minutes ago.  
“Fuck, yeah.” Harry is still ogling Louis’ ass. “Gimme a sec, we can have a round two.”

It sounds tempting.

“Not with your Nan in the house, no. But I’m not done with you. Not until you fuck me. I do enjoy some cock up my ass too, y’know.” 

Louis crawls back on top of Harry and kisses him. “I want you to take your time with me, make me beg for it… Fuck me into a mattress, make me scream. Come on your butterfly tattoo. In my bed. With no flatmates around.” He gives Harry one last peck on lips and then finally gets up and gets dressed. Harry beams when Louis asks for his phone number.

Louis crosses his fingers so he can sneak around the living room without getting noticed. No such luck.

“You brought a friend, that’s lovely,” Harry’s Grandmother says from the sitting room, “he can eat dinner with us. I made some toad in the hole!” Harry snorts and Louis feels like fainting. Again.  
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he whispers, wishing he was on the bus home already.

“Uhm, Grams, my friend won’t be having dinner with us. He’s got some… sticky sausage at home.” Harry grins.  
“Fuck you, Harold,” Louis shoves at Harry playfully and then winces uncomfortably. He has a sticky situation going on down in his pants.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments would make my day! If you want to yell at me in private, you can find me on Tumblr as [miafi](http://miafi.tumblr.com). Tumblr post for this story is [here](http://miafi.tumblr.com/post/171484757470/dont-talk-dirty-to-me-author-miadotfi-pairing)!


End file.
